


Bruised

by kiyala



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What's the fastest pitch you can catch?" Kyoutani asks. "Because I can tell you now, you're not going to be able to catch mine."</p>
<p>"Then I'll just have to learn, won't I?" Yahaba spits, and refuses to let Kyoutani intimidate him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bruised

**Author's Note:**

> written for [kyouhaba week](http://kyouhabaweek.tumblr.com/) day 3 - sports swap!

When Kyoutani returns to baseball practice as if he hasn't been skipping it for the past year, Yahaba can't stand it.

He hates the way that Oikawa welcomes him back without a problem, working him back into their practice so naturally that it's as if he's always been there. He knows that he's not the only one; he can see it in their teammates' expressions too. Not only is Kyoutani a terrifyingly powerful pitcher, but he's just as good a batter. It makes perfect sense to put him in the batting lineup, and to have him share the mound with Iwaizumi. It means that they can both pitch at full power without having to worry about lasting the entire game. It significantly increases the strength of the team as a whole. Yahaba realises that, as much as he hates it, and it's why he doesn't openly complain about it. Kyoutani is more talented than he is—more talented than most people on the team. It makes sense to take advantage of that.

The only problem is, Kyoutani is brimming with talent but it's all raw and unrefined. He refuses to learn most of the signs Oikawa tries to teach him, and shakes them off anyway, sticking to his preferred pitch. It's always a fastball, with little to no variation, and as predictable as it can be, it's still powerful enough and fast enough that the batters can't get used to it before they strike out. 

Yahaba still hates it. He watches the way Oikawa continues to signal, even though he knows that Kyoutani will shake him off, and it frustrates him to no end. Oikawa's game sense is almost unrivalled; he can call complete shutouts when the pitcher follows his lead, but Kyoutani is giving up runs all over the place because he's too stubborn to listen. 

It eats away at him, through practice game after practice game, until he approaches Oikawa one afternoon, when they're done with practice and are packing their equipment away. 

"Oikawa-san. I have a request." 

"Oh?" Oikawa looks up from where he's packing their bats away. "Is that so?"

Taking a breath, Yahaba bends into a deep bow. "Please let me catch for Kyoutani."

"Huh." Oikawa hums. "I was wondering when you would ask."

"Excuse me?" Yahaba asks, looking up.

Oikawa shrugs. "I was wondering when you would get bored of sitting on the sidelines. You take over if I'm injured or tired, but otherwise, we don't get to see you catch much outside of practice. I've been wondering how the team is going to go next year, after I graduate."

Yahaba blinks in surprise. "You were thinking that I'd be the main catcher?"

"Yahaba," Oikawa laughs, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. "I don't know if you're being modest or if you're just being silly. Who else did you think would catch? Who else do you think could crouch out there in front of Kyouken-chan and catch those pitches? Can you imagine Kindaichi doing it?"

Yahaba stifles a laugh. "I guess not."

"You'll be practicing with Kyouken-chan from tomorrow onwards," Oikawa decides, and pats him on the back. "If you can make him follow your signs, I'll buy you an ice cream."

Yahaba raises an eyebrow. "Just one?"

"Greedy," Oikawa laughs. "Make him follow your signs first. We can bargain later."

 

 

* * *

 

 

"Why do I have to practice with him?" Kyoutani asks the next morning, and if Yahaba wasn't still replaying the previous afternoon's conversation in his head, he would retort that he doesn't want to practice with Kyoutani either. 

Instead, he just puts his head down and continues putting on his catcher's gear. "Come on. We're practicing in that bullpen over there."

"What's the fastest pitch you can catch?" Kyoutani asks. "Because I can tell you now, you're not going to be able to catch mine."

"Then I'll just have to learn, won't I?" Yahaba spits, and refuses to let Kyoutani intimidate him. 

They stare each other down, before Yahaba pulls his catcher's mask down.

"Just shut up and pitch, Kyoutani."

Yahaba isn't stupid. He's heard the force with which Kyoutani's pitches hit Oikawa's mitt. He's seen the way Iwaizumi checks up on him after coming off the field when Kyoutani's been pitching. He knows this isn't going to be easy. 

Even so, he's still not prepared for the way it feels when Kyoutani's pitch hits him in the chest. Even through the thick padding of his gear, it's enough to wind him. He doubles over, gasping for breath, and he thinks he hears the crying out in alarm, but Oikawa stops him before he can run over. 

Yahaba looks up, to find Kyoutani staring him down. Gritting his teeth, Yahaba picks the ball up and throws it back, trying not to wince. "Again." 

Kyoutani sighs, and Yahaba braces himself for the next pitch. He doesn't even bother to sign, because he knows it's going to be the fastball. He knows it's going to hurt if he misses it. 

Watching Kyoutani's form when he pitches is completely different when crouching right in front of him, compared to watching him from side on. He's closer, the movements feel more immediate, the ball is coming right at him, and Yahaba's hand trembles, not moving into place fast enough. He grunts as the ball hits him again, and steadies himself with a hand against the ground. 

"Look," Kyoutani says, when Yahaba throws the ball back to him. "If you can't catch my pitches—"

"I'll catch them," Yahaba snaps. "I just need to get used to them, okay? Or do you want to pitch for Oikawa-san that badly?"

Kyoutani scowls. "It's not about Oikawa. If you can't do something, then don't do it."

"Oh, is that why you don't learn to read catchers' signs?" Yahaba taunts. "Because you can't?"

Kyoutani growls, winding his arm back to pitch at Yahaba, even though he's not ready. Yahaba freezes up, knowing he isn't going to get his mitt up in time, but Kyoutani doesn't even get to throw.

" _HEY._ "

Kyoutani drops the ball, his eyes going wide as Iwaizumi stalks over, looking furious. 

"What the hell were you doing?" Iwaizumi demands, shoving at Kyoutani. "Yahaba wasn't ready. You knew that. That's dangerous, dumbass!"

Kyoutani is silent, accepting the scolding. Yahaba pulls his mask off and runs his hand through his hair, his heart still racing. 

"If you can't respect your catcher," Iwaizumi tells Kyoutani, "no matter who they are, then you don't deserve to be a pitcher. Simple as that."

"I'm sorry," Kyoutani mumbles, lowering his gaze. 

With a sigh, Iwaizumi shakes his head and looks over at Yahaba. "Why don't we swap for now? We'll start off getting you used to faster pitches, so you can practice with Kyoutani later."

Shaking his head, Yahaba holds Kyoutani's gaze. "Sorry, but no. I'm going to practice with Kyoutani until I get this."

With an irritated click of his tongue, Kyoutani picks the ball up. "Fine. If you want to keep getting hurt that badly."

"Kyoutani," Iwaizumi says firmly.

"I'm going to catch them." Yahaba speaks up. He frowns at Kyoutani. "I will."

By the end of morning practice, Yahaba only manages to catch one of Kyoutani's pitches, but even that feels like an incredible victory. From the way Oikawa smiles at him as they're walking off the field, he completely understands.

"Yahaba," Oikawa says, touching his shoulder lightly, slowing down so they're behind the rest of the team. "I'm proud of you for not giving up, but you need to learn your limits, okay? You're trying so hard not to wince with pain that your shoulders are trembling. Get changed, and I'll walk you to the nurse's office, okay?"

Ducking his head with embarrassment, Yahaba nods. Now that he doesn't have to hold up his pretence, he can feel tears of pain pricking the back of his eyes. He blinks them back, and lifts his chin. "Thank you, Oikawa-san."

Ruffling his hair, Oikawa walks ahead, letting Yahaba take his time back to the club room. 

Yahaba waits until the rest of the team has finished changing, before he pulls his black undershirt off. There's a mirror in the door of his locker and he grimaces at his reflection. He's covered in bruises that are going to turn darker and uglier throughout the day. Then, at afternoon practice, he's probably going to get more of them. 

He rubs a hand over his face and holds back his tears of frustration. Oikawa can catch for Kyoutani. He's never going to be as good a catcher, but he's going to have to figure out how to be the best that he can, if he has any hope of playing in his third year. 

Oikawa is waiting for him outside the club room, when he's finished changing. With nothing more than a gentle smile, he leads the way to the nurse's office. Yahaba follows gratefully.

 

 

* * *

 

 

He hides the bruises from Kyoutani, and it becomes a matter of pride. It doesn't matter that Kyoutani knows the balls are hitting him. He probably doesn't know about the bruises, and Yahaba does whatever he can to keep it that way. He's sure that Iwaizumi knows, and Watari figures it out, but Kyoutani's focus is too narrow to see anything beyond his pitching. Yahaba is glad for that. 

He's catching more pitches anyway, so the bruising isn't as bad as it used to be. It's still terrifying, because Yahaba never knows when he's going to miss one. It's natural to be afraid of the pain, he tells himself when he trembles in front of Kyoutani. Nobody would want to crouch in front of an unpredictable pitcher and just accept it when his pitches don't make their mark. 

He deals with it, though. He can tell that he's getting better, even if Kyoutani ignores any signs that Yahaba tries to send. Even if the school nurse clicks his tongue at the bruising after practice and threatens to let the coach know. 

Yahaba gets away with it, until Kyoutani walks in on him one day when he's in the middle of changing, having forgotten his jacket. 

"Uh." Kyoutani freezes up, catching Yahaba just as he's pulling his undershirt off. His eyes go wide. "Uhhh."

Yahaba rolls his eyes, turning away from Kyoutani and picking up the jacket from where it's sitting on a bench, rolling it into a ball and tossing it across the room. "Here."

Kyoutani hesitates, and Yahaba sees the way his gaze drops to the bruises. "Uh. Are you…"

"I'm fine," Yahaba snaps. "Are you done?"

Kyoutani carefully puts his jacket down, walking closer to Yahaba. "Those are because of my pitches." 

He reaches a hand out towards Yahaba, who knocks it aside. 

"Don't touch me."

"I'm sorry," Kyoutani breathes, and he sounds so incredibly surprised that it only makes Yahaba angrier. "I didn't mean—"

"What?" Yahaba grabs hold of Kyoutani's shirt, pushing him back against the nearest locker. "You didn't _mean_ to pitch so hard? Bullshit. You didn't _mean_ to shake off the signs I kept giving you? You'll have to come up with a better lie."

Kyoutani blinks at him, surprised. "I didn't think—"

"Yeah," Yahaba interrupts. "I know you don't."

Kyoutani grits his teeth together, and Yahaba lets go of him, turning away. "Just let me change."

"Uh." Kyoutani clears his throat. "Oikawa's standing outside."

"I know that." 

"He's waiting for you?" Kyoutani asks. "Wait—does he know—?"

"Kyoutani," Yahaba sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm trying really hard not to punch you in the face right now. My self control isn't great. You should go." 

"Right." Kyoutani clears his throat again and quieter this time, he adds, "Sorry." 

Yahaba sighs loudly once Kyoutani is gone, his shoulders slumping. He presses his hands to his face, squeezing his eyes shut, then continues putting his school uniform on. When he walks out of the club room, Oikawa is leaning against the railing, arms folded across his chest. 

"Do you want to talk about—"

"No," Yahaba interrupts, leading the way to the school nurse.

"Okay," Oikawa agrees easily, falling into step with him. "That's fine too." 

 

 

* * *

 

 

At afternoon practice, Kyoutani's pitches are slower. Yahaba catches three of them in a row, before he stands up, pulling his catcher's mask off.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demands, advancing on Kyoutani.

"What?" Kyoutani asks, as Yahaba shoves the ball at his chest. "I'm not doing anything."

" _Bullshit_ ," Yahaba spits. 

"Yahaba," Oikawa speaks up, walking over to them. "I think we both know what Kyouken-chan is doing, don't we? I think he feels a little guilty."

"You knew you were hurting me," Yahaba says evenly, frowning at Kyoutani. "Are you suddenly going to be less of an asshole just because you saw a bruise?"

"It wasn't just one—"

" _It doesn't matter_ ," Yahaba tells him. 

"Yahaba," Oikawa says, more firmly this time as he places a hand on Yahaba's shoulder. "I think Kyouken-chan might be a little slow on the uptake, but he's trying his best to change. I don't think that's something you should be yelling at him for."

Kyoutani turns red, looking away. Yahaba sighs loudly.

"I guess not."

"You should both take a break," Oikawa tells them. "Go sit in the dugout for a while. Watch Iwa-chan pitching for me."

"But we've already seen you two—" Kyoutani speaks up, but Yahaba just takes him by the arm, pulling him in the direction of the dugout. 

It's awkward, sitting beside each other, far enough away from the rest of the team that it feels like they're alone together. Yahaba doesn't doubt that this is the point; that Oikawa wants them to talk. He just can't think of anything to say that isn't an insult, or something else that will just make this entire situation worse than it already is.

"I…" Kyoutani draws a breath, looking down at his hands. "I really like pitching."

Yahaba hums noncommittally, to indicate that he's listening. 

"You were right, this morning," Kyoutani admits. "I don't really think. When I'm standing on the mound, I just want to throw the ball as hard as I can. It's probably not a good thing."

"We've only been trying to tell you that for a couple of months," Yahaba sighs. "You're so difficult and frustrating, you know that? But you're our best pitcher, after Iwaizumi. When he graduates, it's just going to be you. I didn't think you'd change, so I figured that I'd have to be the one changing instead."

"It's just satisfying, you know?" Kyoutani holds up the ball between his thumb, index and middle fingers. "Throwing it. Feeling the acceleration."

"You know what else is satisfying?" Yahaba asks. "A shutout. Not giving the opponent a single run. When a pitcher and a catcher can work together and things just click perfectly, so it's like a wall against the batters. When a pitcher follows the catcher's signs, or shakes them off, not because they're being an arrogant prick about it, but because they're thinking about the game, and what kind of pitch is the best. You've cost us shutouts already. If Aoba Jousai becomes a joke because our best pitcher can only throw one kind of ball and refuses to learn our signs, it isn't going to matter how hard you can throw the ball or how nice it feels. We're still going to lose."

"I know how to throw other kinds of pitches," Kyoutani mumbles. 

"Show me, then."

Clearing his throat, Kyoutani turns to Yahaba, his ears turning red. "How about you teach me the signs for them first?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

They win the first game of their third year without giving up a single run. Oikawa is in the bleachers, and Yahaba knows it. He can hear Oikawa's cheering, louder than anyone else's. Kyoutani and Yahaba grin at each other as they meet on the mound with a high five. 

"Was I right?"

"Shut up," Kyoutani mumbles, his cheeks turning pink.

"Kyoutani," Yahaba teases, and he's aware that their hands have been pressed together for a little too long, but he doesn't do a thing to change it. He can feel the calluses of Kyoutani's warm hands against his own. It's a nice feeling. 

"Yeah," Kyoutani murmurs. "This feels pretty satisfying too." 

The entire team crowds around them on the mound, hugging and congratulating each other for the game. Yahaba, pressed up against Kyoutani, just grins at him even wider, enjoying the way it makes Kyoutani flush. 

It's not until they're on the bus, on their way back to school, that Yahaba's phone lights up with a message from Oikawa, congratulating him for the game, and reminding him about the promise to buy ice cream for having Kyoutani follow his signs. 

Yahaba snorts quietly, looking over to where Kyoutani is leaning against his side. Kyoutani meets his eye for a moment, raising an eyebrow, and pulls Yahaba's phone out of his hand. 

_Make that enough ice cream for two_ , he types out, giving the phone back to Yahaba without hitting send.

With a quiet laugh, Yahaba sends the message. They're sitting at the very back of the bus, and the rest of the team is asleep. Shifting closer, Yahaba kisses the corner of Kyoutani's mouth. With a low hum, Kyoutani aligns their lips, kissing him back properly. They pull away from each other, smiling, and Yahaba rests their foreheads together. 

As far as he's concerned, this is much better than ice cream.


End file.
